Save Me
by Gumnut
Summary: Virgil answers a call for help out of the ordinary and things do not go well. Very much a work-in-progress. Virgil whump.
1. Chapter 1

_Quick scene_

_Ten minutes before work._

-o-o-o-

Gordon had been known to compare Virgil's physique to that of a brick shithouse. The aquanaut, likely daunted by the sheer mass of muscle his older brother had accumulated over the years, took some glee in using the descriptor repeatedly, and if he was honest, Virgil didn't mind. After all, each of the brothers had their specialities and their strengths, and if Gordon wanted to acknowledge that Virgil's muscle mass was enough to kick his ass, he was welcome to it.

Unfortunately, it didn't really matter how many outhouses the emergency responder could be compared to, because at this very moment the three assholes trying to take him down had the combined power of a bulldozer.

Virgil really wished Gordon, or any of his other brothers, all armed with stun guns, were here to keep him company.

Virgil ducked and the latest swing passed by his head so close it generated a breeze to cool the blood on his face.

The next was rather more direct and took the breath from his lungs as it pounded into his gut. He staggered, but didn't go down.

"C'mon, pretty boy, give it up. It is only a matter of time."

"You can't have her." The thought of what these goons would do if they made it past him just hurt. With determination and that stubborn streak Gordon was also known to comment on frequently, Virgil straightened.

"Oh, I think we can." This time it was a boot and although Virgil tried to dodge, he was slow and they were double and it connected, dropping his feet out from under him.

Once he was down, all three took full advantage and his world became a mass of pain as he curled in on himself desperate to protect his body.

"We're not going to forget this, Tracy. She belongs to us. You should never have interfered." And with that the feet disappeared. A scream of fear behind him and a snarl from his attackers as they dragged the girl away…no, please, no.

"Virgil, you there? Scott is inbound. Virgil?"

"Too late." One eye was swelling shut and it was getting hard to see. It didn't matter, though, because everything was double anyway. Something was grinding as he breathed.

"Too late."

-o-o-o-

TBC?


	2. Chapter 2

**Save Me**

_I'm none too sure of this, but it is what it is._

-o-o-o-

It started with a letter.

Not a piece of paper and there was no envelope, but it was a letter nonetheless. Eos trawled the nets as a matter both security and patrolling for calls for help. The letter drew her attention due to certain keywords, but it was unclear as to how International Rescue could respond.

At the time, she was maintaining Thunderbird Five herself as John was on personal leave for a funeral in the States. There was no urgency to disturb him, but a Tracy needed to be alerted on the outside chance there was an action that could be taken.

As it was addressed to Virgil Tracy, in its own way, she contacted the engineer.

"Virgil?"

The man in question was upside down and head first in Thunderbird Two's rear vent. A nasty bird strike the day before, while not a problem for the great green machine in flight, meant her pilot had to spend quite some time picking feathers out of all the nooks and crannies of the plane's intakes.

"Yes, Eos?" His voice was strained and muffled.

"I have a possible situation for your review."

He looked up and immediately whacked his head on the ductwork of the cooling assembly. "Ow. Damn." He rubbed his head with a greasy hand. "Possible?"

"I am unsure. The request was not a call, but a letter addressed to you."

"To me?"

"To the pilot of the beautiful green plane."

"Huh?" A muffled expletive. "Uh, give me a sec."

It wasn't exactly a second. More like ten point six five nine seconds, but Eos was used to inaccuracies on the part of the Tracys. With the exception of John, of course.

Virgil clambered out o the vent. He was dressed in his usual accoutrements of flannel and denim, but he had a harness wrapped around his waist and legs, attached to a safety line. Highly appropriate at the height he was operating.

The condition of those clothes, however, left much to be desired. She had noted on several occasions that of the brothers, Virgil was the most likely to return from a mission, or from a simple maintenance cycle, completely covered in grime. It was a mathematical anomaly and she had spent some time assessing the probabilities and permutations as to how this occurred.

As the engineer sat down on the hull of the Thunderbird, she noted that the orange substance in his hair wasn't even used in the intake system, but was actually a lubricant used in the thruster assembly…which she knew he had not accessed today.

Definitely an anomaly.

"Okay, Eos, give it to me." He wiped his hands on a rag, looking up at she knew not what. Why did everyone look at the ceiling when talking to her? Were they addressing her as a god?

"The letter was emailed to an non-existent address at this morning. It tripped a search shortly after."

"Content?"

"It reads as follows:

'To the pilot of the beautiful green plane.

I have seen you fly over our home. Your plane is very loud, like its name, but it is beautiful.

I think I need your help. We are poor and my father needs money. I know I cost a lot to look after. He has mentioned it many times. I try to eat little and bother him less, but he gets angry anyway. He wants me to go away and I think he has found a way to do that.

Yesterday he introduced me to some men. I did not like the way they were looking at me, but father was eager to show me to them. He was even kind to me. They were talking money and I'm scared what they will do when they come again tomorrow.

Please Mr Thunderbird. You are International Rescue and I think I might need saving.

Can you save me?

Cara.'

Virgil didn't react immediately. His expression appeared frozen.

"Eos, where is Scott?"

"He is still at the Tracy Industries board meeting in Seattle."

"Seattle? I thought it was in San Fran?"

"Last minute change of venue."

"That's one hell of a change of venue."

"Mr Tracy said the same thing."

"Where was the email sent from?"

"An outer suburb of Wichita, Kansas."

"Kansas?"

"Yes." Didn't she just say that?

"Have you been able to get an ID?"

"Carolyn 'Cara' Sommers, a thirteen year old girl who lives on a small farm on the outskirts of the city. Mr Barrie Sommers is an out-of-work welder. Their financial situation is poor. As to the 'men' she is referring to, there is some satellite footage of the area at the approximate time she mentioned and a vehicle other than that owned by Mr Sommers was on the property. I was unable to gather a registration number. Is this a situation we should respond to?"

The second eldest was as passionate as any of the Tracys, however, his expression was far different. There was consideration and concern and less of the fire at the extremes of emotion exhibited by the eldest and two youngest. Of John's four brothers, Eos felt Virgil was the closest in temperament to her father.

Though nowhere near the same.

"Log it and prep Tracy Three. I feel a sudden urge to visit the farm." The expression on his face could only be considered worried. "Do you have any police records on the family?"

"I will forward all the data to Tracy Three. Did you wish me to inform the Commander or John?"

"No, but advise Gordon and Alan that I will be absent overnight. I have a few things I need to take out to the farm anyway." He stood up and made his way to the hovering platform that would return him to the hangar floor.

"Virgil?"

"Yes, Eos?"

"Are you sure this is a situation that International Rescue should respond to? The possibilities here are leading to the need for a police presence."

"I agree. But she asked for my help. I have to answer." He climbed onto the platform and it lowered him gently to the floor. "I'm only going to go home, check out the farm and maybe drop by Wichita for a drink."

As Virgil headed for the showers, she wondered if John would pull her processors for interrupting the eulogy. The likelihood was fifty-fifty. She chose to wait until the ceremony was finished.

That left her tracking the second eldest.

She tracked him onto Tracy Three and across the Pacific. She followed him as he checked the storm shutters on the farmhouse and secured the barn.

She tracked him into Wichita and out the other side.

What happened next…

She should have commed her father, eulogy be damned.

-o-o-o-

TBC?


End file.
